Anemia
by Ire-lass
Summary: Anemic Ivan just wants to be left alone, but a certain golden-haired, blue-eyed (usually) vampire has other ideas. (RusAme)
1. Chapter 1

**Prompt** : That tumblr post about the vampire coming across a person with anemia and becoming very protective of them. Anemic Ivan just wants to be left alone, but a certain golden-haired, blue-eyed (usually) vampire has other ideas. (RusAme)

 **Warnings** : Violence, language, a hint at depression, Google-Translate Russian

Ivan was the one who knocked.

The 6'4 Russian man had never been one to jump at shadows. If anything, his height and odd appearance had made him more often the subject of caution than the bearer.

However walking home in the dark that particular early morning had him on edge. The orange light of the street lamps only added to how alien the streets of the new city were to him. Ivan sighed into the humid summer air, adjusting his grip on the bags he was carrying from the corner store.

 _At least that is one nice thing about America. They favor convenience here._

It was about all he could say for the city though. Back home in Russia he'd grown up in a more rural area. He wasn't used to loud, crowded places. Even so, he glanced over his shoulder as he walked, wishing to hear a cat yowl or a siren in the distance.

It was too quiet.

Ivan started at the loud clank of metal hitting concrete. One of his bags was suddenly much lighter.

"Der'mo," Ivan growled, looking down to see several of his food cans on the ground now, one of them rolling away. He bent down to pick them up, cursing himself for being so jumpy.

 _There is no good reason to be—_

"Hey there!"

Ivan started again, looking up to see a young man smiling brightly down at him. He was shorter than Ivan but still tall, wearing blue jeans and what looked like a vintage bomber jacket over a white tee-shirt.

Ivan froze for a moment, mystified at the sudden appearance. He hadn't seen anyone approach. And there was something odd about the kid. Ivan stared stupidly, trying to figure why the boy seemed so… out of place. Maybe it was those impossibly blue eyes. They gleamed brightly in the dim orange light.

The young man held out the can of soup that had rolled away. "Looks like your food was trying to get away! Can't have that, can we?"

Ivan slowly stood, accepting the can back. "Spasi—… ah, thank you."

The young man tilted his head, his grin turning curious. "Say, that's an interesting accent you got there. Where ya from, big guy?"

Ivan felt a slight heat reach his cheeks. He wasn't one to be bashful, but living in a new place was hard enough without being obviously foreign. He hated when it showed.

"Russia," Ivan admitted.

"Oh cool!" The young man's face lit up. "Shoulda' known. Man, I haven't been to Russia in a while. It still as cold as balls there?" He gave a disarmingly warm smile.

"Da," Ivan replied despite himself. Something about the strange young man was amusing.

The boy ran a hand through his bangs, "Cool! I love meeting new people, especially people from not-here. They have the coolest stories!"

Ivan felt his face heat again, though maybe not for the same reason. He smiled a bit tightly. "Then maybe you are meeting wrong person. I am not having anything interesting to tell."

"Nah, that's what they all say. No one realizes how interesting they are, I think, until they share stories with someone else. So I always ask!"

Ivan regarded the young man a long moment. An odd person yet something about him just kind of… drew him in. He found himself walking down the street alongside the kid.

"I'm headed for Beech Street," the young adult announced. "You live this way too?"

"Oak Street," Ivan admitted.

"Cool! You live with your family?"

Ivan felt his amusement fade. The personal question turned his mood immediately. "Nyet," he answered a touch darkly.

"I used to live with my brother," the boy continued obliviously. "He was awesome. Made the best pancakes ever!" He sighed a bit sadly. "I miss him."

Ivan found himself at a loss. He didn't want to pry into the young man's past. Especially since he himself was not one for sharing histories. He struggled to come up with a change of topic.

"Um, that is… an interesting jacket," Ivan stumbled.

"Huh? Oh, thanks!" The older teenager grinned. "Yeah, I like it a lot. Pretty badass, right?"

Ivan let a small smile escape him. "Where did you get it?"

The boy's smile faded slightly. "Earned it," he said, still smiling but without the enthusiasm Ivan might have expected.

The boy slowed to a stop, rubbing the back of his neck and looking sheepish. He let out a heavy sigh. "Look, you seem like a really cool dude, but I… God, I hate this." The boy's good mood fell drastically.

The sudden change made Ivan's jumpiness return.

The young man glanced up at Ivan out of the corner of his eye, fixing him with intense blue. Ivan felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

The street was too quiet.

The young man looked down at the sidewalk, chuckling to himself with no happiness. "I'm really sorry about this. Just…"

Ivan took a small step back.

There was a rush of air in Ivan's ears. His vision blurred, and his back slammed into something, sending a shock through him. The street light was gone, and he found himself swallowed by a dark alley. The young man pressed against him, one hand crushing Ivan's shoulder back into the brick wall and the other clamped over Ivan's mouth.

"…try not to move much. It'll hurt less."

Ivan froze. Fear locked his joints as the impossibly strong boy removed his hand from Ivan's mouth and carefully began pulling away at Ivan's scarf. The scarf that hid his…

The young man hesitated, concern flickering across his face.

"…Dude, what happened to your neck?!"

A cool breeze brushed the sensitive scarred skin and snapped Ivan back to reality.

He jerked away, driving all his strength into a shove that hurled the boy into the opposite alley wall. Ivan launched himself away from the brick and started sprinting back towards the alley mouth; he could see a street lamp, his spilled grocery bags underneath. His heart pounded in his ears as he drove himself forward as hard as he could.

He didn't even get close.

Something smashed into him from behind, sending him sprawling. He slammed into the dirty asphalt, something pinning him down between his shoulder blades. One of his arms were wrenched behind him and he growled in pain and frustration.

"That was actually pretty sweet!" he young man on his back said much too happily. "Don't think anyone's ever thrown me like that before. You work out?"

"Poluchit' yebut ot menya!" Ivan snarled as best he could with a face full of concrete.

"Yeah, ok, you're pissed, I get it. I don't like this either. And hey, I'll leave your neck alone; I can just use your arm."

Through his anger, a pang of fear cut through Ivan. He was helpless. Useless. Unable to stop him... Unable to help even himself.

Ivan swore, hot tears stinging his eyes. He was useless.

"Hey, hey," the young creature cut in, sensing his distress, "Don't worry, I won't kill ya. This'll all be a hazy dream in the morning."

Ivan tried to turn his head, barely managing to look over his shoulder…

Just in time to see wicked fangs extending from the roof of the young boy's mouth, glinting in the dim light.

Ivan's heart shuddered to a stop.

The large Russian man cried out in pain as something pierced into his wrist and forearm. He tried to struggle away but the iron grip held him fast. He gasped for breath, his heart picking up at double time. Tears ran down his face.

 _This is actually happening!_

A pathetic sob escaped Ivan. He pressed himself into the ground, willing it to swallow him.

He barely noticed when the creature on top of him became very still. Suddenly the piercing pain in his arm disappeared, leaving only a numb tingling.

"Dude, are you sick?"

Ivan hesitated a long moment, blinking away tears in surprise.

The pressure left his back and the vampire kneeled down beside him, holding his shoulder gently.

"…Cuz you blood tastes weird. Like, it's watered down or something."

Ivan's fogged mind swirled a moment. Then slowly a realization crept up on him. He snorted, suddenly realizing what was happening. It was funny. No, hilarious.

Rather child-like giggles escaped the large man as the irony of the situation got the better of him.

The vampire seemed to grow a little uneasy. "Um… you ok man?"

Ivan sat himself up a bit on his good arm, unable to keep his dry smile at bay. "Nyet. I am having Anemiya."

The vampire's now slightly off-blue eyes grew wide. "Wait, you're anemic!? Dude, why the hell didn't you say something!?"

"Oh, I am sorry, I was busy being crushed into a wall and then the ground," Ivan growled, his emotions quickly morphing into anger. His light head dampened the feeling a bit, though.

"Still you should've… Damn, dude, I could have killed you!"

Ivan glared at the strikingly troubled expression on the young man's face. Particularly the touch of red at the corner of the boy's mouth. Of all the places to find sympathy…

Darkly amused, Ivan let another giggle slip. "I am being very sorry to have worried you so."

The young man huffed in response, his expression remarkably close to a parent rebuking their child. "Alright, well…" He suddenly grabbed up Ivan's injured arm. Ivan froze as he felt a cool tongue run up his arm, catching the blood that had been steadily escaping the punctures.

"Chto?! Otpustit'—!" Ivan tried to pull away but the grip wouldn't yield.

The tongue lingered a moment on the new wounds, the young vampire pulling away with a sight grimace.

Ivan's lips curled back to hiss a curse, but the words caught in his throat. He watched in wonder as his skin slowly drew together, pink and angry, but closed. Slightly stunned, he felt himself being raised to his feet.

"Let's get you home, the venom will kick in soon. Where do you live?"

Ivan's mind was swimming. "V-venom?" He manage to spit out. He felt himself moving forward.

"Look dude, I really hate poking around in other people's heads. Just give me an address."

Ivan's eves wouldn't focus anymore. He felt his resistance sap away with his energy. It almost felt… pleasant.

"2437 Oak Street," he slurred, his accent coming through thicker than ever. "Apart-… 41."

Ivan felt like he was floating. He was pretty sure his feet weren't on the ground anymore. Everything faded away to an agreeable haze, only a few words echoing after him.

"Don't worry, big guy. I got ya."

Ivan had only been hungover one other time in his life, and he honestly couldn't remember it being this bad.

The Russian blinked slowly, squinting at the light filtering through his bedroom window. Dust motes floated above and he watched them, unable to move since his body had been replaced with lead.

Shadowy memories danced behind his eyes. He remembered that… _something_ had happened. But all that emerged from the smog of motion and dim light was…

Blue. Impossibly blue eyes.

Ivan latched onto that one shard of a memory, unwilling to let it go. He wasn't sure why.

With a growl the large man forced himself out of bed. He shuffled over to the bathroom, splashing water in his face and trying to get the chalk taste out of his mouth. He looked up in the mirror, skin looking sallow and sick in the light. His family had always been particularly pale, it suiting his lovely sisters but looking downright deathly on him.

The brief thought of his sisters sent another stab of pain through him, though of a different sort. He pushed them from his mind.

Ivan shambled back through his room, glancing at the clock. It was already afternoon. He'd need to leave for work in a few hours. He sighed, running a hand through his shaggy silver hair while he debated calling in sick. But no, it was a new job and he couldn't risk losing it. He cursed under his breath and headed for his kitchenette.

His feet hit the tile as his eyes came to rest on the kitchen table; particularly the grocery bags sitting innocently on it. He stared a long moment trying to remember… That's right, he'd gone for groceries last night, and…

Everything came back in one horrible rush. Ivan staggered, grabbing the wall for support.

He'd…he'd been attacked. Attacked by…

Ivan gasped, his eyes jumping to his forearm. He brought it close to his face, scrutinizing it for any marks but found nothing. His eyes narrowed, an uncomfortable churning in his stomach.

 _I remember it… I couldn't have imagined that... right?_

Ivan approached the table like it might be a feral creature. He scanned over the contents of the bags. Everything seemed to be present. It was exactly what he had purchased last night, with one exception.

Sitting among the plastic bags was a very large bottle of iron supplements.

Der'mo – shit

Spasibo – thank you

Nyet – no

Poluchit' yebut ot menya – Get the fuck off me

Chto?! Otpustit'… – What?! Let go…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 **Warnings** : Language, Depression, Google-Translate Russian

xxx

Alfred wasn't entirely sure why he was here. He definitely wasn't being a stalker.

 _Stalkers are evil creepy dudes. Totally… not like me._

Still he had to admit what he was doing was kinda stalker-ish. Honestly, all he'd meant to do was take his most recent… acquaintance… home safe. But he couldn't get the taste of undernourished blood out of his mouth, or mind. So when he'd come across the dropped groceries he'd been struck with a brilliant plan! He'd bring them back to the guy's house, along with some iron supplements!

Iron supplements were for anemia, right? He was pretty sure that's what the guy's blood was missing…

Anyway, that should have been it. Wanting to help the guy wasn't an excuse; he'd wanted to help every single one of the "acquaintances" he'd made over the years. Wanted to take every one under his wing, cook them a hot meal, help them recover from the hangover, hell, maybe pay their debts or something.

But he couldn't. He'd made a rule. He'd get them home and that would be it. It had to be.

 _I'm just making sure he's ok. He tasted pretty sick, I'm just… making sure he's not hurt too bad._

That ran around his mind on loop as he watched the Russian through the foggy glass.

It'd been almost twilight when Al had happened to pass by the man's apartment, and as it so happened, the man himself was walking through the front door. Keeping to the long shadows, Alfred had managed to follow the large man all the way to a high school, where apparently he worked as a janitor.

And now he was watching Ivan mop floors through the little window of one of the classroom doors. Which might be a little… yeah, ok, he was being stalker-ish.

Alfred made a face at the thought. _Heroes aren't stalkers. And I'm trying to help him, so I'm a hero!_

 _Right?_

As Alfred watched, the Russian man suddenly started moping more urgently, his expression angry. Alfred felt himself ever so slightly tempted to take a peek in the other man's mind, but quickly squashed the idea. Looking inside other people's minds was just wrong, plus he was really bad at it. It always made him flat-out exhausted afterwards, and sometimes all he could detect was an obvious emotion.

 _Totally not worth… it…_

He sensed something was wrong a moment before it showed. Not in a specific, this-is-what's-wrong way, but more of a subconscious nudge. His gaze zoned in on the Russian…

Just in time to see his knees buckle.

With a rush of air and the slam of a door flying open, the classroom was empty.

xxx

As it so happened, the Russian man had been thinking about a particular vampire that made his blood boil.

He still felt pretty ill. It had been a chore to force himself out the door and all the way to work. That damn vampire had shaken him so badly. The burly Russian had never feared isolation or dark before. He hadn't jumped at the slightest sound echoing down the school's tiled halls. That damn creature had broken him; the final straw. Ivan felt his anger grow, and had pushed himself harder into the motions of mopping.

Suddenly his head was light, and the hallway spun.

Ivan's vision went blurry, all blacks and whites, too bright and throbbing. He was vaguely aware of falling but not hitting the ground. His pulse was pounding in his ears and he was short of breath. All he was sure of was the coolness of the tile at his back. And… the sensation of something around him. Supporting him. Slowly his pulse calmed enough for him to hear…

"—get you to a hospital!" A near-frantic voice exclaimed. "Shit, I knew you were sick! This is bad, we need to—"

Ivan's eyes wouldn't focus, but they didn't need to.

"YOU," Ivan growled, pouring the last of his strength into the hate behind the word. A wave of exhaustion hit, ripping away the anger and bitterness he was leaning on for energy. His head lolled back as he grappled with consciousness.

What had he done? Not work hard enough? Care for his sisters too much? Anger some divine being unwittingly? That's what it felt like; a curse. An old, true curse, the kind that destroyed not only the person but the people around them too.

He didn't want this. He didn't want to be sick. He didn't want to be useless. He didn't want to have failed his family. He didn't want to be alone in a foreign country…

"Hey, hey, hey! Stay with me, big guy…"

He didn't want to hear the genuine concern in the damn vampire's voice…

Ivan blinked rapidly, his vision slowly clearing. His eyes managed to focus somewhat on the boy's murky blue eyes. The slightest tint of purple threw off the vivid blue he remembered.

"Come on, we need to get you to a hospital…"

"Nyet!" Ivan grabbed onto the arm supporting him. He sighed. "Nyet. No hospital."

"Dude, you just collapsed…"

"NYET." Ivan insisted through his teeth. He slowly eased himself back down to the floor, closing his eyes. "I will rest and be fine."

The boy continued to hover over him worriedly. "Well is there anything I CAN do?"

"Da, you can leave," Ivan grumbled.

"Oh, yeah," the teen snapped sarcastically, "I'm gonna leave a sick dude half-conscious in the middle of an empty high school at night."

"Why do you care?" Ivan growled.

"Cuz it's my fault!" The teen said it like it was the most obvious thing.

 _So, the_ _krovopiytsa has a conscious. How sad._

"If I were you," Ivan mumbled coldly to himself, "I would not be wasting my energy on a weak human." Ivan's cruel, childish smile twisted onto his face. "Unless I was board and hand nothing better to torment. Tell me, how long are you going to be hunting me? Until you get your fill, bit by bit?"

"What?" The boy's expression twisted in disgust. "Ew, no dude! I'm not even hunting right now."

"THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Ivan snarled.

"Dude, chill, I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you're ok." The young man nervously scratched the back of his neck.

"Ah. So you are feeling guilt."

"Are you taking medicine for it?" The young man said suddenly, ignoring the last comment. "The anemia, I mean. You have a doctor, right? If not, I'll fine one for you. I'm sure I can find someone good."

"Nyet, that is not being necessary," Ivan mumbled. He did not, in fact, have a doctor. You needed money to have a doctor.

Ivan pushed himself up into a sitting position and locked eyes with the young monster. "Guilt. Pity. Kindness. These are all wasted on me. I have nothing for you but blood," Ivan spread his hands, smiling sadly. "And even that is no good."

"That…" The boy stumbled, his face flushing. "That's not…"

"Leave." Ivan ordered.

"I… can't."

"LEAVE!" he roared, lunging forward. He threw all his energy behind his swinging fist, and felt a deep satisfaction when it connected with the young man's face.

But then he was spent. He fell forward, unable to right himself, and found himself down, face first, at the mercy of a now probably irate vampire.

"Please," Ivan begged, feeling the last of his will sap away. His voice was broken and quiet, almost a prayer. "Let me be alone."

There was a long silence, But Ivan knew the vampire hadn't left. A bitter chuckle confirmed it.

"You wanna be miserable?" the young man asked quietly, all the mirth gone from his voice. He helped Ivan back into a sitting position.

Ivan noticed that the boy's bottom lip was split, but it looked like it had already been healing for a day.

The teen studied him a long moment, his intense eyes suddenly very old. He closed them and smiled sadly. "…I get it. Alright then…"

He sighed, standing. The vampire turned to leave, but hesitated.

"…Tell ya what, I know a great place to be miserable at." He smirked down at Ivan. "It's a bar. All imported liquor. The good stuff. I'd bet they'd have some decent vodka, if you're into that stuff." The vampire stuck out his tongue. "Tastes like liquid hate to me but whatev'. You want a place to be miserable at? Bruderhaus 's the place."

Ivan stared up at the smirking vampire, not sure what to think. Was this kid seriously recommending a bar? To the man he'd nearly killed the night before? Ivan would be damned before he took the vampire's recommendation…

But _god_ , he'd been missing good vodka.

The vampire winked at Ivan as he began his retreat. "Take care, big guy. Oh," he paused. "And go to your doctor already, dude. You're not gonna get any better this way."

Ivan glared knives at the empty air where the vampire had been a moment before.

xxx

Several days passed, and Ivan started feeling as bad as normal. Still, it was an improvement to almost passing out every time he exerted himself.

The large man set the school's alarm and strode to the door, stepping out into the muggy night air. He glanced around the empty, dimly-lit parking lot, shuddering despite himself. The orange light made him uneasy, and probably would for a while. He growled under his breath, pulling up his scarf and charging into the darkness.

Unfortunately, since he was no longer pushing a mop, his mind had no good reason not to wander. It floated back the realization he'd had when he'd woken up… It was Katusya's birthday.

Ivan felt his stomach take a nasty twist and his hissed under his breath. He couldn't keep going like this. What he wouldn't do for some good…

…vodka.

Ivan gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was take advice from that vampire. But even as his mind tugged at memories of past birthdays, Ivan found his feet turning from home to downtown.

He didn't know where he was going. Ivan ended up awkwardly asking for directions from several passers-by. Fortunately, it seemed Bruderhaus was a bit famous, and the second person he asked pointed him in the right direction.

Ivan finally found the place, its entrance a bit below street level and lit in blue light. There was a sign with a black eagle and the name of the place written over it in gothic script. Ivan snorted to himself and double-checked the open sign before pushing in the door.

The strong scent of beer, salt, smoke, and a hint of sweat assaulted him as he glanced around. The place was an odd mix of stereotypically German paraphernalia and American night club. Ivan could hear the faint heavy beat of club music, and there was a dance floor off to his left, but thankfully it was empty. He headed to the right, where he could see a low-lit bar area. Ivan noticed a few other patrons mulling about as he pulled himself up on a bar stool. His violet eyes took in the place, never having been to bar like this in person.

"Vodka," Ivan growled softly at the bartender who had his back to him. He was pleasantly surprised when the barkeep set down a full bottle of Stolichnaya in front of him, instead of just a glass.

"You struck me as a bottle kinda guy."

Ivan's eyes went wide. He looked up to see the bartender's sky blue eyes and bright smile grinning cheekily down at him.

"Good to see you, big guy."

xxx

Krovopiytsa – bloodsucker


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, sorry it's been so long since I've updated. This past semester at college I was taking 21 hours and it was killing me (literally, I was sick the entire time). Hopefully I'll be able to update a lot more regularly now. Thanks for sticking around!**

Chapter 3

 **Warnings** : Language, Violence, Google-Translate Turkish

xxx

Ivan stared dumbly up at the golden-haired man grinning down at him. A bright smile completely void of fangs, Ivan noted.

"I know I'm handsome, but ya don't have to stare," the teenager winked and Ivan felt a slight heat in his cheeks as he stumbled over words.

The cheeky vampire had a bit of mercy, though, and didn't tease. Instead he stepped back from the counter and continued doing his job, which at this point seemed to be wiping down clean glasses.

"Name's Alfred, by the way. Ivan, right?"

Ivan's brows drew together in confusion. "Ch-… How—?"

Alfred took on the most unconvincing innocent expression Ivan had ever seen. "I… might have glanced through your wallet," he mumbled quietly.

Ivan felt a spark of his original anger. "How DARE—"

"Oh, hey, don't worry about the vodka," the vampire interrupted, almost cleverly steering Ivan's attention back to the alcohol, "that bottle's on me." He sheepishly ran his hand through his golden bangs. In a quieter tone he added, "…figure I owe ya that much at least."

A sudden burst of laughter made them both jump. Ivan unabashedly stared as a stark albino came up from behind Alfred, elbowing the kid in the ribs.

"Kesesesese! One of your marks come back to haunt you?" he teased Alfred with a wolfish grin. "Awkward."

"Keep it down, man," Alfred whispered harshly, glancing around to see if anyone else in the bar had overheard.

"Psshh! You worry too much."

If the albino was going to say anything else, he was cut off by someone further down the bar signaling for Alfred's attention. The pale man watched Alfred walk over to the masked Middle Eastern man, then turned his attention to Ivan.

"Don't think I've ever seen anyone come back a second time. What gives?"

Ivan fixed him with a glare. "I do not see how it is your business."

The albino's eyes narrowed slightly. "Maybe, maybe not. If you're here to make trouble with Al it is. The kid's an idiot, but he's the best damn bartender we've ever had."

The slightest smile graced Ivan's lips. "If I was here to cause trouble you would know it."

An icy tension filled the air.

"Hey! Sorry," Alfred cheerfully strolled over. "The guy down there's basically wasted, I had to cut him off. Wasn't easy."

"Is it ever?" The albino chortled.

"Fair," the boy replied with a smile. His eyes fell on Ivan and the unopened bottle. "Hey, are ya gonna drink any of that? I told you it was on me."

"Pretty generous," Alfred's boss mumbled in his thick German accent. "'Sides," he nodded towards the vodka, looking at Alfred with a shit-eating grin, "isn't this backwards? Giving him alcohol after the fact?"

Alfred's cheery continence quickly fell. "Fuck off, man."

"Kesesese! Don't forget I'm your boss, Alfie-boy."

"Wait," Ivan growled, slowly piecing things together. He looked up and fixed Alfred with a glare that would peel paint. "You are saying this _pikyavka_ intoxicates his victims...?!"

The vampire paled. "What?! No! Oh my god, no, it's not like that! They show interest, ok? They hang around until the end of my shift and yeah, they usually get tipsy while waiting. But I promise to get them home safe and I do. Every time."

"Sure," Ivan mused, a darkly amused smile pulling on the corners of his mouth. "If by 'safely' you are meaning 'missing half their blood'."

Alfred slammed his hands down on the counter, leaning in with a snarl. "Look," he growled lowly, and Ivan wasn't convinced he didn't hear a more bestial rumble deep in the boy's throat, "If you think I don't do my damnest to not hurt them and make sure they're ok you're damn wrong."

"Ben daha çok Rakı istediğini söyledi!"

Before anyone else could say anything, a thick arm shoved past Ivan and grabbed Alfred by the collar, hauling the kid half over the counter until he was inches away from a porcelain mask.

Alfred winced at the strong scent of alcohol on the man's breath. "Dude, you're gonna have to help me. I only know, like, five words in Turkish, and four of them are foods."

The large man growled in frustration, shouldering Ivan out of the way to be right in front of the young bartender. "Raki! Now!"

Alfred's expression shifted to rebuking - an odd expression for his face. "Dude, I cut you off for a reason. You're gonna be mad at yourself in the mor—"

Before anyone knew what had happened, the angry man slugged Alfred in the face.

Chaos broke out. Alfred fell back behind the counter, slamming into the cabinets there. Gilbert shouted. Someone screamed. Several customers jumped to their feet. A few edged toward the door.

But most notable was Ivan, who was tired of his long and rather crappy day, and was happy to let it out on someone. He came up quickly behind the masked man and locked his arms behind him in a hold. The Turkish man was big but Ivan was bigger. The Russian rather easily managed to pin the man to the ground, the German albino over them, growling obscenities.

"Out! Get that Arschloch out of mien bar!"

"With pleasure," Ivan mumbled under the Turk's howling. He wrenched the man up from the floor and followed the direction the albino pointed, spotting the back door and eagerly throwing the intoxicated, rambling man through it.

The large Turkish man stumbled forward and slammed down to the pavement, immediately flipping over onto his back to fix Ivan with a terrible glare

"Pişman olacaksın, ölümlü!" He snarled form behind the mask, and suddenly – if Ivan's eyes weren't deceiving him – the man began to glow with a reddish aura. The porcelain mask began changing, ancient text being drawn to its surface in a violent red scrawl. The air surrounding them crackled.

Ivan's skin prickled.

 _Damn._

 _Why are there so many supernatural creatures here?!_

He watched the man... no, not a man... rise to his feet, staggering a bit to square off with the Russian.

Ivan ground his teeth, the prickling feeling running through him growing stronger, almost painful. His short temper was about to snap.

The Turk howled and charged at him.

With a cry worthy of a battlefield, Ivan lunged forward, diving into the strange sensation washing over him and swinging his fist with all his strength. The strike cut through the air and smashed into the other man's mask. It cracked, the Turk's head snapping back and his shoulders following.

The man was knocked clean off his feet, slamming back down to the concrete. He let out a pathetic moan, and just lay there.

A terrible grin flashed across Ivan's face, and he felt deeply satisfied with himself for the first time in a long while. But then the tingling came back, and it almost felt like he was being drawn... backwards...

Ivan jolted, suddenly finding himself on the ground, two worried faces hovering over him.

 _What...?_

"You alright?" growled the albino. "Fucking Djinn..."

Ivan noticed the albino had surprisingly sharp teeth and... did he have dog ears before!?

"Dude, that was totally badass!" Alfred jumped in, eyes bright. There was a small amount of blood trailing down his face from his nose, but he didn't even seem to notice. "You just threw a Genie out on his ass! That was epic!"

"Why am I on the floor?" Ivan muttered, disoriented. He was feeling very tired all of a sudden.

"Um, you... fainted, man," Alfred offered a bit sheepishly.

Ivan felt embarrassment sting his face red. Damn it all!

"Does he need medical attention?" The German asked, sounding put-out.

"Naw, he does this a lot. He should be fine in a moment," the vampire answered cheerfully. He helped Ivan up into a sitting position.

"Psh, you know your food that well?" The albino grinned.

Alfred's face turned red. "W-what? No, It's not like that! I just... I know cuz... whatever, it's not any of your business!" The young vampire sputtered. "Besides, you better go take care of yourself. Your dog is showing!"

The albino cackled, but stood and headed for the back, giving them one last guarded glance before disappearing from sight.

"Don't listen to him, he's an asshole," Alfred grumbled. "Think you can stand?"

Ivan gave a grunt, easing himself to his feet then into the nearest chair.

"You're not looking so good," Alfred mumbled, almost to himself.

"Then don't look," Ivan grumbled with a toothy, tight smile.

"Tell ya what, I'll walk you home. My shift ends in about a half-hour."

"Not necessary," Ivan assured darkly, forcing himself to his feet. He swayed a bit, but almost managed to hide it. Human eyes might have missed it.

Not vampire ones though. "Yeah, no," Alfred disagreed, pushing down perhaps a bit too hard on Ivan's shoulder so he sat back down. "Just drink your alcohol, dude. I'll be off in a minute." Alfred dashed over to the bar and grabbed the untouched vodka bottle, quickly setting it down on Ivan's table. "Anything else I can get you?" He finished cheerfully.

Ivan glared at the eager young man a long moment, who met his fierce gaze with a remarkably oblivious expression. Finally, the Russian sighed. "A large glass of ice."

"Vodka on the rocks, huh?"

"Nyet," Ivan snapped. "Just ice."

"Alrighty! Coming right up!" Alfred said far too cheerfully, striding over to the bar again.

Ivan cracked the seal on the bottle and took a deep, burning drink, feeling a touch of relief. It felt a bit like giving in to the enemy to drink, but God knew he needed it today. Besides, if he ever turned down good vodka, well then, surely all hope of him ever returning home was lost.

He toasted his sister's birthday and waited on his new, unfortunate acquaintance.

xxx

A mild breeze swept over Ivan as he stepped out the door and into the street. He wasn't drunk by far, but the edge had been taken off, and he found his company maybe slightly less awful.

Alfred skipped over to him, a goofy grin on his face. "Thanks for waiting! Sorry your first time at Bruderhaus was so crazy. Good alcohol though, right? Noticed you finished your bottle off." He smiled a bit mischievously.

Ivan made a noncommittal noise.

Alfred switched to pouting briefly, before being distracted by his own thoughts a second later. "Btw, Gil wanted me to thank you again for bouncing that guy. Djinn are pretty strong, if you didn't know; he could have leveled the bar probably. Normally Gil's bro, Ludwig, does the bouncing, but he's out of town right now. We've had a couple problems."

Ivan scrutinized the young man a moment. "If I remember, you have great strength. Why do you not do it?"

Alfred's demeanor fell suddenly. "Well, I don't… I mean, I'm the bartender, right? Can't have the… ya know…" He stared ahead instead of meeting Ivan's gaze.

Ivan's eyes narrowed, but he let it go. Instead he changed the subject. "Where is your jacket?"

"What?" Alfred seemed to start.

"Your brown jacket. The nice one? You are not wearing it," Ivan said noting the boy's blue hoodie. Alfred hadn't been wearing it the other night at the school either, now that he thought about it.

Alfred chuckled a bit nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I only wear it… on special occasions. When I, ya know…" he sighed, "…need it."

"Where did you get it?"

"Earned it," the teen replied in a hard tone, showing his age for perhaps the first time since Ivan had met him. His lively blue eyes turned deep and ageless, with an intensity that made Ivan's hair stand on end.

He let it drop.

They walked in silence for what felt like a long time. Ivan's thoughts had trailed off to his sisters again when Alfred's voice brought him back.

"Doing any better?"

"Hm?"

"Your health," Alfred clarified, meeting Ivan's eyes. The blue had their sparkle back. "You fainted back there, are you not getting better?"

A flash of embarrassment returned to Ivan and he growled under his breath. "I am fine."

"You so aren't, dude," Alfred replied with a snort.

"I have not had time—"

"Bullshit," Alfred cut him off, glaring a bit. "You work the night shift, dude, you've had all day!"

"I will be fine," Ivan growled.

"No, you won't!"

"I do not need expensive doctor to tell me what I already know!"

"They can help you! Give you drugs and stuff!"

"I DO NOT NEED ANY HELP!"

There was a snarl of frustration, and something slammed into Ivan, knocking the air out of him. The next thing he knew, there was a cold wall pressed up against his back and…

Fingers. Fingers on his neck. Pressed into his jugular, right under his jaw.

"You feel that?" The voice growled lowly, just under his ear.

Ivan couldn't even move to look. All he could do was listen to his pulse pounding in his head and feel the vampire's breath on his jaw.

"Your pulse is irregular," the voice spat. "You're sick."

Suddenly the pressure was gone. Ivan pulled a shaky breath.

"You need a doctor," the young man continued. "And if you don't go yourself, I'm gonna drag your ass there. Capiche?"

Ivan finally managed to make eye contact with Alfred. The young vampire's glare was strong enough to make Ivan grimace.

"Is there no getting rid of you?" Ivan snarled.

The boy's eyes flashed competitively, an aggressive grin spreading across his face. "Not until you get better!"

Ivan spat on the ground. " _Fine_ then. I will go, if only to get rid of you."

"I'll make the appointment!" Alfred bounced happily.

Ivan watched the bubbly creature happily resume his place at Ivan's side, and wondered what fresh hell he had just walked into.

xxx

Pikyavka – Leech

Ben daha çok Rakı istediğini söyledi! – I said I want more Raki!

Pişman olacaksın, ölümlü! – You will regret this, mortal!

 **Notes:**

Raki - is an unsweetened, anise-flavored alcoholic drink that is apparently great with seafood and considered a national drink in Turkey

Djinn – Djinn or Jinn is the actual name of the creatures we commonly know as Genies. And instead of the benevolent blue creature we know from Aladdin, Djinn can be pretty evil sometimes. That's not to say they always are, but they, like humans, are creatures with free-will and can screw stuff up too. Certain kinds of Djinn are comparable to demons in western Judeo-Christian mythology


End file.
